Home Bitter Sweet Home
by InsaneYaoiOtaku
Summary: For the summer before 5th year, Severus Snape is sent to Number 5 Privet Dr. to keep an eye on Harry Potter. Nothing is more shocking than what he will see when he grudgingly takes this mission... Snape mentors Harry, abuse No good at summaries sorry! XD
1. Chapter 1

Dark blue eyes flicked around their new surroundings angrily, shifting from side to side in a calculating manner. But he was not quite as mad about his surroundings as he was at a certain old man and his mission IN said new surroundings. Most importantly, the blue eyes, and the face he wore were not his own, and this disguise made him feel most unlike himself.

His normally pale skin, onyx eyes, and silky black hair were hidden underneath a simple glamour spell, making him look, as quoted by the headmaster, "More approachable." He had tried to keep the glamour as similar to his own person as possible, and ended up with an 'approachable' personification of himself. He now had sapphire blue eyes, dark brown hair, and a complexion that didn't make him look sallow or sickly. His nose had shrunk drastically, and no longer had the look that had been created after many through breakings of said nose. He looked normal enough to live on a place like Privet Dr., a place where everyone was dead set on being the epitome of normality.

The Headmaster insisted there was no one else capable of doing this job, that every other option was detained in another location, or unable to make rash choices due to their concern for Mr. Potter's well-being. While he himself had no longing to take this job, the Headmaster had assured him he had no choice in the matter, and swiftly sent him on his merry way. Which was not in the least bit merry, in his general opinion.

To avoid suspicion, he had to do everything the muggle way, by decree of a certain old man. He had to take a moving truck to his new abode, and move everything in by hand. He had moved in a few necessities, so he at least had a bed to sleep on and a table to eat at. The rest of his things would have to be unloaded at a later date, seeing as he had little time before an appointment he was to attend.

A tone rang through the house, notifying those inside that a person wished to speak with the owners of said house. Inside, he cursed Dumbledore, realizing the man had been right. He strode towards the door, and hid behind a mask of kindness as the door knob slowly turned under his grasp. The hinges on the door creaked as the door was flung unceremoniously open to reveal a whale of a boy on the other side. A boy the Headmaster had called Dudley Dursley. He was angry, though not unsurprised, because just as the Headmaster had predicted, Harry Potter's cousin had just visited his doorstep, and if the rest of his foresight was correct…

"Hello, sir. My mother noticed that you had moved in next door," As if the giant moving truck didn't tip you off, "And has offered that you come and eat dinner with us tonight."

He summoned up his kindest voice and said, "Alright, what is your name, kid?"

"Dudley, sir, Dudley Dursley. And you are?"

"Dominic Caulfield, Mr. Dursley. I accept your mother's invitation graciously. What time do you wish for me to come over?" His alias was a strange one, which the Headmaster said was "normal-esque" enough, but not so common it would arise suspicion.

" 6:30, Mr. Caulfield sir."

"Then I will see you then, Mr. Dursley." He concluded, promptly slamming the door in Dudley's face, but the boy was already toddling over to his mother yelling, "HE SAID YES!"

"Obnoxious brat…" He mumbled to himself, his insides in turmoil. Indeed, the Headmaster had been right in saying he would be invited to dinner with the Dursley's. The man's foresight was impeccable.

He observed his bland, empty abode with contempt. He would definitely have to do some decorating. Number 5 Privet Dr. had never had such an abnormal inhabitant, and Severus Snape had never seen such a dull place in his life.

Simply put, Severus Snape was not happy.

Green orbs flicked around their disgusting living quarters sluggishly, even though every corner had been memorized by them by now. The broken glass in the corner might have been new, but it was unimportant to his seeking eyes. He desperately wished to do his summer homework, unlike any typical 14 year old. However his guardians, whom he refused to call family, had locked up anything "abnormal" in his old room, the cupboard under the stairs. Which included everything in his trunk, his homework, etc. They did, however, allow him to keep some parchment and a ball point pen, in order to answer any letters he might get, so his "crowd" would not get worried.

This school year had been a catastrophe. The TriWizard Tournament, instead of being the normal competitive, yet dangerous, recreation between schools, it had ended in the rising of the Dark Lord Voldemort and the murder of Cedric Diggory. Cedric had been a simple acquaintance, they weren't even close friends, but Voldemort felt the need to set his trusted servant on him, officially wiping Cedric Diggory off the face of the earth in a flash of green light.

The 3rd task plagued his nightmares, intensifying the guilt he felt with every 'Avada Kedavra' that left Wormtail's mouth. It was entirely his fault, he knew. He had noticed people associated the color black with death. However, black did not mean death. Black was nothingness, emotionless. Death is a huge emotional burden on those who see it, experience it vicariously as someone else loses their soul. He knew that the color of death was not black. No, the color of death was the color he sees every time he looks in the mirror. Bright green eyes stare back at him in reflective glass, just like the flash of the Unforgivable killing curse.

He knows the color of death is green.

He hears the click of locks as Aunt Petunia opens the door to his sanctuary in hell.

"Boy, we are having company tonight! Go make dinner, then disappear!" She screeched vehemently into the smallest room in Number 4 Privet Dr. Her voice echoed off the stained plaster walls as he winced, her voice scraping unpleasantly against his ears. He nodded, and she accepted that answer, leaving him once again in a welcome silence. He got up and removed himself from his private haven, and once again made his descent to hell.

As per usual, Dudley was sitting on the couch with a bag of potato chips, lazily watching Cartoon Network. He was slouched awkwardly, a double chin evident, along with rolls of fat. The sounds of crunching potato chips filled the air, as well as obnoxious sound effect that blazed from the TV. Potato chips crumbled in his meaty fingers, and he brushed the crumbs off onto the floor and couch, eyes not leaving the TV screen. He knew they would just be more of the mess he would have to clean before whatever company was coming today got here.

He walked behind the couch, so not to disturb Dudley while he was in a non-threatening state. He slipped into the kitchen, only to see a list of things to do laid out for him. He knew from the beginning making dinner would not be the half of it. The list had the following chores for him to complete.

Make dinner, do the dishes, vacuum and dust the whole house, and stay in room when company arrives.

Simple, and to the point, just the way he liked it. He decided to make dinner last, so it would be warm when it was eaten. He looked to the clock and saw he had 3 hours. He was short on time, and began immediately. He started on the dishes, unloading and reloading. The dishes took the least time, and he worked efficiently. Sneaking a peek out of the kitchen, he saw Dudley had evacuated his spot on the couch, leaving a pile off crumbs in his wake, and the TV still on, as he always did. Shaking his head, he walked into the living room, and turned the TV off, watching the brightly colored characters blink off the screen.

After cleaning his cousin's mess and vacuuming and dusting the whole house in record time, he saw he had an hour and a half to spare. That would be enough time, he decided as he looked through the fridge for an edible substance acceptable for dinner with company. He pulled out some chicken breasts, corn on the cob, and a box of Pillsbury biscuit mix from the cupboard. He put the chicken in a marinade of lime juice and basil and began to boil water as he began on the biscuits. Putting the biscuit shaped dough in the oven; he put the corn in the boiling water. He waited for a while, until the chicken had marinated to for the appropriate amount of time. He took the thoroughly marinated chicken (oh how he hated cooking for THIS family) and took it to the grill outside. Opening the propane and lighting the grill, he placed the chicken on and raced inside to hear the ding of the oven, saying the biscuits were done. He placed them on a cooling rack, and drained the corn. Placing that on a plate, he raced back out to the chicken on the grill, so he could flip it. But standing next to the grill, looking like a giant terrifying walrus, was Uncle Vernon.

"So, boy," He asked, "Do you think you can leave our food unattended?"

"I-I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon. I had to check on the biscuits-" His face turned to the side from the impact of a big meaty hand flung against his cheek.

"So you left more of our food unattended! Insolent boy, do you know what happens to food that goes unattended?" Apparently it was a rhetorical question, because before he could open his mouth to speak, his Uncle continued.

"It burns. Kind of like this!" Uncle Vernon took his wrist and pressed the boy's hand to an unoccupied part of the barbeque. The boy could not resist giving a small shout in pain, but seeing Uncle Vernon's sadistic grin at his reaction, he gritted his teeth, allowing no noise to escape him. The smell of burning flesh, his burning flesh, filled his senses. Tears that refused to fall blurred his eyesight, and his teeth strained with the effort to stay pressed together. Disappointed he only got one small reaction; Uncle Vernon let the boy go. When he did, the boy yanked his hand off the grill and stared horrified at the grill lines burned in his hand. A tear fell on the hand, stinging the marred hand further.

"I will finish dinner boy, seeing as you are too incompetent to do so. Now GO! The new neighbor will be here soon!" Uncle Vernon whispered nastily, giving the boy a kick in the shin. Without any hesitation, the boy ran up the stairs to his safe house, closing the door behind him. He fell to the bed, sobbing silently and cradling his injured hand to his chest.

Simply put, Harry Potter was not happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus Snape stood brooding on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive. He glared pointedly sat the small round button he was expected to push. If the doorbell had been one of his students, it would already be mumbling excuses and apologies, before running off in a random direction. But sadly, a doorbell is an inanimate object, and it held his glare without wavering. Disgusted with himself, he allowed one slender finger to reach out and press the button, before pulling back quickly, as if it was poison.

He went over his cover story in his head as he waited for one of the house's inhabitants to open the door. Of course, he also contemplated his purpose on being here. He may have done horrible things in his past, but he was sure he had not done something so terrible as to give him this punishment. What a terrible fate he had received! Surely, Merlin had some sort of grudge against him, to make him check up on the Potter boy, and have him eat a meal with him and his family.

His thoughts were interrupted when a certain whale of a boy opened the door and greeted him.

"Hello, Mr. Caulfield. Please, come in." Dudley Dursley said, moving out of the way to let the new neighbor through. He had rehearsed his lines well before Mr. Caulfield had come over, along with the rest of his family.

"Thank you, Mr. Dursley." Severus replied as he squeezed past the boy and into the creepily spotless house. The obviously rehearsed lines did not get past him, but he ignored them when the next Dursley came to introduce herself.

"Why, hello Mr. Caulfield, it is nice to meet you! You may call me Petunia." She said with a false cheer that made Severus want to puke.

Petunia was just as he remembered her. Apparently that horse-faced little girl had changed into a horse-faced woman. He could see it in her eyes, the way she truly was behind this cheerful mask. She was still that fake, hateful, judgmental person she used to be.

"Then you may call me Dominic." He was sickened with himself when he replied in such a manner, but reminded himself that it was only an act. After all, he was no Dominic Caulfield.

"Alright, Dominic, why don't you take a seat? It seems like my husband is coming in with the rest of the meal."

"Ok, Petunia." He replied, taking the seat offered. The table was, of course, just as spotless as the rest of the house, almost as though they polished the table after every use. Ridiculous, in his own general opinion.

Then in sauntered, or more like waddled in an arrogant manner, the largest man Severus Snape had ever seen. And he and Hagrid were great friends!

"The name's Vernon." He said gruffly, maybe putting on a tough guy act? Severus wasn't sure, but it sounded stupid to him either way.

"Dominic Caulfield, it is a pleasure to meet you." Severus replied, even though he vomited a little in his mouth as he said it. He stood up and gave out his hand to shake.

Dursley returned his gesture, and wrapped his disgusting pudgy fingers around Severus's slender ones. It took all of Severus's will power not to twist up his face in disgust, which was usually something he did not have to mask. He however, could not bring up whatever willpower he had left and make himself smile. So instead he just stared into Vernon Dursley's watery blue eyes, with his own, sapphire blue ones.

Even if he was Glamoured, he was still a Snape, and an unnerving stare a Snape has. Their hands still clasped between them, Severus could feel Dursley beginning to quiver and quake. Which made him all the more unappealing, the way his fat jiggled, and the way he was easily frightened in the presence of a mere new neighbor made Severus want to laugh. But he only allowed himself a small smirk before turning away.

Which immediately faded away when he realized his mission was going to be a failure. Where the hell was Potter? Surely he wasn't so arrogant he ignored the present company in his house? Of course, he wouldn't put it past him.

"Um… food's ready!" Petunia said, intervening in the awkward silence. (A/N One gay baby is born! Therefore making my day happier! Or was it gayer… 8D)

They sat down to a pleasant meal, or so it would seem to someone watching the scene. Unless, of course, that person was an experienced Leglimens. Then said observer would know that Petunia was cursing the boy in the room upstairs for making something so simple, Vernon was stuffing his face, Dudley was stuffing his face, and Severus, he was thinking only one thing.

Where the hell was Potter?

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Assessing the burn on his hand, Harry knew it had to be a 3rd degree burn, due to the amount of blistering. He had long ago dried his bout of tears, and now it was down to business. Kneeling on his bed, he used his good hand to rip a piece of the thin sheet that covered it off, and gently wrapped it around his hand. He knew he had to wait for the blisters to pop, which was a long and painful process. He had learned not to pop them himself the hard way. He had no water, so he knew there would be remnants of the burn on his hand forever. A permanent scar.

A loud tone echoed throughout the house. Harry knew it could only be one person. After all, it was not often some fool entered the abode of the obnoxiously normal Dursley's. He after hearing some incoherent conversation, which was not understandable from his room, he heard what was a slightly familiar, but silky, strong, and comforting.

"Dominic Caulfield, it is a pleasure to meet you." He heard the visitor say. The man stood up to Uncle Vernon, he could tell by Aunt Petunia's sudden anxious outburst after a few moments of silence.

The small talk at the dinner table was mundane. They spoke of everything and nothing and he could tell Aunt Petunia was running out of small talk questions.

Apparently, this Dominic Caulfield character came from America, and was a pharmacist in Michigan. He winced in pain as the first blister popped. He bit his lip, drawing a little blood as he tried not to cry out. When one of the largest ones met its end, he cried out in time with the audible pop that came with it.

"What was that?" He heard Dominic say, the man's voice having a strange edge to it.

"What? I heard nothing, did you hear something Pet?" Uncle Vernon asked nervously. Nice cover up Uncle, that really shook him off…

"Nothing dear…" She replied. Harry could just imagine her shifty eyes as she said this, glancing nervously around the house, cursing him for all he was worth. Which wasn't much, in their eyes.

"Oh okay, maybe I'm just hearing things." Dominic said, giving a short nervous laugh. He didn't believe them at all, Harry could tell. His tone of voice was way too suspicious.

Dinner was finished quickly soon after, he assumed by the clinking of plates being moved to the sink for him to deal with tomorrow.

He heard the door slammed shut quickly behind the heels of a Mister Dominic Caulfield. He would imagine that man was smart enough to never ever come back.

Thundering footsteps pelted the stairway as Uncle Vernon ascended towards Harry's room. The doorway was yanked open, and a piece of sheet was ripped off a burned, blistered hand. Meaty fingers gripped said hand in an iron grip, popping every blister.

Harry screamed.

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Reviews and other stuff!!!!!!

WOOT!

Thank you to all you reviewers! I love you!

You get a virtual cookie. It has all the greatness of a real cookie, except you can't eat it! 8D

I apologize for me taking soooooooo long….

I was real busy these past few weeks…

Even worse, the next one your gonna have to wait again…

I have a massive vacation coming down on me….

SOWWY!


	3. Chapter 3

Severus Snape fumed as he made his way back to Number 5 Privet Dr. His house, now.

Did those, _Dursley's, _seriously believe that he hadn't heard that? That cry of anguish and pain coming from an upstairs room. It was muffled, surely, but it was there, and it was real. Of course, even if he hadn't been positive of its existence, the Dursley's nervous responses only confirmed his assessment.

As he stepped gracefully onto his front doorstep, he heard an ear shattering scream. One filled with agony. One that someone such as himself had heard many times in the service of the Dark Lord.

That had to be Harry Potter.

He may be a prejudice bastard, but he knew that Harry Potter lived there, and if the inhabitants of that house include 3 Dursleys and one Harry Potter, it left nothing to be questioned.

Of course, perhaps the boy was just being the drama queen he normally was. Maybe he had a row with his family, and refused to eat with them. Maybe he stubbed his toe, or had another one of those dreams he had heard Minerva stressing over…

Yes, surely it was nothing serious. Or so he tried to reassure himself.

He sighed, and opened the door to his new house. He would move in the rest of the furniture tomorrow.

He trekked down to his basement, and pulled out a bottle of firewhiskey.

He was going to have to get severely wasted if he wanted to deal with the fact he had just had to be _decent _with a bunch of muggles.

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The next morning was bright, sun leaking in through the partially barred windows of his little room. Which didn't make him any happier.

Harry found that discarded sheet, wrapping it around his hand again. He counted down the seconds, and as he reached zero, his door was once again flung open unceremoniously.

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia started, "Go do the dishes, and then weed the front landscape!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry droned out. If his Aunt had been paying attention she might have heard the slight mocking tone in his voice. But of course she paid no heed to the boy's response, and left quickly.

Harry once again left his sanctuary and went to do his Dursley-appointed duty in this hell of a house.

Doing the dishes was simple, just cleaning them off and shoving them in the washer. Put some soap in there, close it up and walk away. A breeze.

The garden however, was a different story.

It was Aunt Petunia's treasure, even if he had never seen her take care of it herself. The flowers in the front had to look perfectly _normal_ for her to be happy. That meant healthy, and weed free.

Of course, Aunt Petunia had not taken care of it before he had gotten home, so it was close to being over run with weeds.

Lucky me, he thought as he kneeled in the grass and began the long process of taking care of Aunt Petunia's laziness.

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Severus saw the sun seep through his windows that morning as he awoke, and wished he had brought blackout curtains.

He _hated _the sun. Despised it. Loathed it. If he didn't have more important things to do it would be his eternal quest to blot out the sun.

But he, of course, had much more important thins to attend to. But right now he had some furniture to move, and then he had a Potter to find.

Lucky me, he thought to himself as he put on some vile muggle clothes, and stepped out into the sun after hoping he could avoid this dreadful encounter with this wonderfully sunny day.

Reaching into his jean pocket, his hand touched his wand, and muttered a weightless charm, which was cast over all of his remaining furniture as he neared it. No one would notice as long as he pretended dragging in his furniture was a strain.

Taking a few more paces to reach the truck, he decided it would make most sense to take in all the things one person could carry, so not to attract suspicion.

He monotonously pulled out random furniture and dragged it into his house, putting it in a position that suited him. Now all that was left was a large leather couch and the kitchen table, which could not be pulled in alone. Well at least not for a muggle, and being in a muggle neighborhood meant he was not aloud to defy the laws of physics.

Then he took a glance over at the Dursley's. Perhaps he could ask them for help…

But in the front yard he saw a small boy, kneeling in the grass bent over the flowers in the landscape. Messy black hair lay in his eyes, and he pulled weed after weed out of the overgrown garden.

Potter.

After a little study of the boy, he realized Potter looked smaller and skinnier then he had ever seen. Hopefully this had had absolutely no connection to what he had heard yester day.

But poor Severus had a sinking feeling that it had _everything _to do with what he had heard yesterday.

Grudgingly, he did what he knew what he had to do. He trudged his way over to the Dursley's house to speak with one he despised perhaps just as much as the sun.

He made sure all his masks were up, and he put on a friendly façade as he began to speak with the boy.

"Hello, I don't believe I have met you. What is your name?" He asked, even if he did want to go jump of the nearest cliff as he said it.

"Harry Potter, sir, and I suppose you are the new neighbor?" Harry replied, sounding extremely polite. Strange…

"Indeed, Mr. Potter. My name is Dominic Caulfield." Severus answered.

"Mr. Potter isn't necessary, sir. Just Harry is fine."

Even if Severus wanted to kill himself, he had to return the common courtesy.

"Then you may call me Dominic."

At that very moment Petunia came out of the house, muttering under her breath.

"Boy!" She started, then noticed Severus," Oh hello Dominic. I see you have met Harry."

"Indeed. Who might he be?"

"Oh he is our nephew. The boy is worthless. He recently got back from St. Brutus's School for Incurably Criminal Boys." She said in disgust.

She had probably used this lie before, because it slid out of her mouth with ease. But Severus was appalled at ho she truly believed the boy was worthless. Something terrible was happening in this house, he knew.

"The boy does not seem worthless to me, Petunia," He answered defiantly, "And I have come over to ask for some help moving the rest of my furniture. Perhaps Harry could help me?"

"Yes that's fine," Petunia said, waving her hand, "But the boy isn't the strongest, so don't be surprised if he isn't much help."

He ignored her, and beckoned to Potter, who at perked up at hearing his name. He followed Severus over to his home and to the moving truck.

In truth, Potter did have a little trouble with the moving, but it was not nearly as much as he would have assumed. Was the boy used to this? This was just getting more and more serious; he realized as he saw how Potter kept his head down, refusing to look him in the eye.

Potter's stomach growled and Severus forced out a laugh. It was disgusting how hungry the boy must be.

"Well come in Harry, how about we have some lunch?"

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I AM SORRY FOR THE EVIL ENDING.

I haven't much time! I have to go pack! AHG!

Thank you for your flattering reviews that boosted my already extremely large ego!

Now I really won't be able to update for about 4 days. I have a 3 day break before I go camping, so you guys might get an update around the 29th if I can get it done!

~Celia

PS: SOWWY!


	4. Authors Note! Sets dates and such

GUYS!!!!

I am oh so sorry!

My summer just became super busy.

Ok so I went to Cedar Point,(if u don't know that is a theme park in Ohio)

THEN I went camping with my dad.

And now I just got back from band camp.

If any of you were in marching band u would understand how horribly drained I feel right now.

If you guys were not in marching band let me tell you this.

Band Camp has got to be the hardest thing I have done in my entire life.

Anyway band camp ended a few hours ago, and I am going to Arizona tomorrow.

I apologize for your inconvenience, and for making you wait. I can probably get the next chapter out on Sunday.

SORRY!

Chapter 4 will be about Harry Sev bonding time…kinda sorta…


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